Chapter Sixty-Eight: Continuing the Former Mission

The journey back was uneventful. Although traveling alone felt somewhat lonely, and the area was known for bandits, Kevin believed the local bandits wouldn’t dare attack a military vehicle. Moreover, the skies above were patrolled by parakeets; should trouble arise, all he needed was to hold on for the initial moments—reinforcements would arrive swiftly.

As for the strength of the local bandits, Kevin hardly gave it a thought. Their axes were shorter than standard longswords, ensuring they’d be at a disadvantage in a clash. Now Kevin’s sidearm was no longer the training weapon of a recruit, but the standard issue of the Knights of Thunder.

As one of the three great knight orders, even their standard kit exceeded that of most other units. Of course, if Kevin were to encounter bandits, he’d never act as ruthlessly as the general’s guards. If possible, he’d prefer to capture them; if not, there was nothing to be done.

Fortunately, the road remained peaceful—perhaps the bandits had suffered such losses that they could no longer form a gang. In this country, a bandit group numbering three to five hundred was already sizable, not due to any regulation, but because sustaining a larger group would be impossible. Pillaging alone could hardly feed so many mouths, unless they were bold enough to raid villages or even towns—tantamount to open conflict with the regular army, which was unthinkable here.

Kevin and the general’s guards had twice slaughtered bandits—sixty or seventy the first time, over thirty the second—amounting to around a hundred in all. Even a veteran bandit crew would be shaken by such losses. Besides, those sent to rob were always the strongest fighters; replacing them would be difficult.

Kevin couldn’t quite fathom why anyone would choose the life of a bandit in this prosperous age. One could earn a meal just by spinning bawdy tales in a tavern—what need was there for banditry? It was laughable.

On the way back, only the crows kept him company, occasionally landing atop the catapult, sometimes one, sometimes two. Likely the corpses nearby had drawn them. Kevin couldn’t distinguish one from another, but seeing so many gave him the urge to catch a couple. He had a fondness for clever animals, and, as the general once said, crows were even smarter than parakeets—a tempting thought.

Crows were everywhere and hardly rare, suiting his humble station as a poor soldier. If he could tame them, he even considered having crows carry stone pellets, launching both with the catapult; the crow could adjust the stone’s trajectory mid-flight and release it just before impact. Accuracy would improve, and perhaps expensive hardening runes wouldn’t be needed.

Of course, that depended on whether crows could truly be trained to such intelligence, and whether their wings could actually alter the stone’s flight path. Unfortunately, the general refused to give Kevin a military parakeet; otherwise, he could have tested the idea. For now, it was all just idle fantasy.

Three days later, Kevin returned to the encampment. After resting a day, he set out alone once more. He had completed one of the mercenary tasks assigned by the general, with another remaining. There were about twenty days left until the end of the month—a seemingly ample window, but depending on the task, it was hardly a guarantee for someone working alone.

Yet after a week, the local assignments were largely cleared. The Knights of Thunder’s prowess was clear—Kevin heard that some squadrons had taken on a dozen missions in the first round. Though the general had set a minimum of eight, there was no upper limit. All the mission funds went directly into the soldiers’ pockets, so many were eager to volunteer.

As a result, there were hardly any jobs left, not even those backlogged for two months, let alone three. Taking on more would mean competing with local mercenary companies, which would be improper.

With no other choice, Kevin hesitated, then decided to switch to the main city. The general’s orders were clear: he could leave camp but not the city. Yet, since the first assignment had already taken him out of the city, he doubted there would be trouble.

A flash of white from the teleportation array, and Kevin arrived in Mosier City. This was the frontier city he’d yearned for as a recruit, a hub for mercenaries—a place he knew well, and the obvious choice for mission hunting.

Though the frontier city was somewhat chaotic, it was far more orderly than the neighboring Laibozeir Kingdom. The two major mercenary companies—Violet Gold and Dream’s Return—were said to be at odds here, their disputes common knowledge, though Kevin felt it had little to do with him.

“Hey, wasn’t that the guy who groped our captain’s backside just now?” Two mercenaries were talking behind him.

Kevin ignored them and kept walking.

“Wait!” someone called out. “Sir, please wait a moment.”

With a resigned sigh, Kevin turned to face them. “Are you talking to me?”

“Ah, good day, sir. May I ask your name?” the mercenary inquired politely.

Kevin realized these men weren’t sure who he was, but they likely knew who had groped their captain. Giving his real name might invite trouble.

“My name is Sain, of the Knights of Thunder,” Kevin replied casually—he’d impersonated him once before.

“Oh, sorry to bother you.” The two mercenaries exchanged a skeptical glance, then turned away.

Kevin walked on, when suddenly someone shouted, “Hey! Isn’t that Kevin? Hahaha!”

Cold sweat broke out on Kevin’s forehead; his face stiffened, knowing the two mercenaries hadn’t gone far. He pretended not to hear and kept walking.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me?” A female dwarf came bouncing over, a heavy sword at her hip. It was Locke Locke, a member of Dream’s Return whom Kevin had met once before.

Kevin turned, feigning surprise. “Were you talking to me?”

“Huh?” Locke Locke was momentarily taken aback.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” Kevin replied without missing a beat, continuing on.

Locke Locke shook her head in confusion, unable to comprehend what had just happened, and turned away. The two Violet Gold mercenaries who’d witnessed the scene began whispering to each other.

Kevin didn’t dwell on it. He went on his way, though he regretted blurting out Sain’s name—it had been a mistake. During the recruit drills, both Sain and he had competed in front of many, including the leaders of various mercenary companies. Sain, like Kevin, had mingled with all the groups. The only difference was that Kevin had groped people’s behinds, while Sain had grabbed other parts; anyone paying attention could figure out who Sain was. This wasn’t the Laibozeir Kingdom—here, an offhand remark wouldn’t pass unnoticed. Kevin already regretted his slip.

Still, he doubted these mercenaries would dare do anything outlandish. After all, would they really want to repeat the incident right after being groped? He was a legitimate military officer, and even alone, he felt little fear.

He made his way to a branch mercenary hall, deliberately choosing one within Dream’s Return’s territory, and pushed open the door.

“Well, if it isn’t Kevin!” The moment he entered, he was recognized by all, who greeted him warmly, as if welcoming an old friend.

Kevin was confused—he’d only exchanged a few words with Locke Locke, yet the whole company seemed to be enthusiastic.

“Hey, don’t you remember?” a mercenary called, standing up. “You groped my backside!”

“Er… did I?” Kevin recalled that, indeed, he’d groped members of both companies, but Dream’s Return’s captain was a woman and had escaped, while Captain Qianjue was the first victim—so notorious that a raunchy version of the tale had reached the Laibozeir Kingdom.

“Of course he doesn’t remember—he’s groped so many, how could he? Unless you drop your pants and let him try again, maybe he’ll recognize you by feel!” someone jested.

The room erupted in laughter; none seemed the least bit embarrassed.

Kevin could only offer a greeting. “I was carrying out orders at the time; I hope you don’t take offense.”

“It’s nothing,” the mercenaries replied heartily. “We’re all roughnecks. A grope’s a grope. As long as our captain’s unharmed, unlike some other captains… Hahaha!”

Kevin was speechless—the lengths they’d go to slight their rivals! Every opportunity was seized to ridicule opponents, no matter how trivial.

At that moment, Locke Locke entered from outside. “You said I mistook you, but you’re clearly Kevin!”

“Ah… I was just worried those Violet Gold guys would cause trouble,” Kevin explained honestly.

“Hahaha…” More laughter ensued. “What’s to fear? The Violet Gold lot are useless—we beat them every time.”

“It’s fine,” Locke Locke added. “If you run into any trouble, we’ll help.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Kevin replied.

“Don’t mention it. Anyone our enemies dislike, we’ll befriend. Anyone they praise, we’ll shun,” Locke Locke said, as if quoting their company’s creed.

Kevin was slightly taken aback; the logic felt off, but he said nothing. He approached the counter and asked the clerk, “Do you have any missions that have been backlogged for three months?”

At his words, the room fell silent, and embarrassment flickered across everyone’s faces. Having just offered their help, what if Kevin now asked them to join a three-month-old mission? Realizing the awkwardness, the mercenaries sat down and pretended to drink.

The clerk produced a stack of assignments for Kevin to peruse. He sifted through them, searching for one he could manage alone. At last, he found a “Poison Forest Black Ape Investigation” mission.

He paused. During his days as a recruit, he’d attempted this mission but hadn’t really completed it—the chaos at the time had led to receiving only a token reward for their trouble. Back then, it had been labeled “Dream’s Return’s Shame,” as the group had initially failed. After Kevin’s attempt, the mission’s name was restored.

Kevin examined the requirements—they were nearly identical to before, except this time he needed only to escort Professor Rook.

He hesitated no longer. The Poison Forest was harsh, which deterred most, but if he only had to protect one man, he was confident he could handle it alone. There was no easy task among those backlogged for three months; finding a feasible one was lucky enough.

Moreover, the client was none other than the vice-principal of the Royal Academy, a rare chance to connect with a high-ranking figure who might prove helpful in the future.

“I’ll take this one,” Kevin said, completing the paperwork.

Nearby, the other mercenaries kept their heads down, even Locke Locke shrinking into the background—a dwarf disappearing into a tavern was no small feat. Kevin merely smiled; he’d never expected them to join him anyway. If they’d wanted to tackle a three-month-old mission, they’d have done so by now.

“I’ve got things to do, so I’ll be off,” Kevin said, waving as he left the hall.

At last, the Dream’s Return mercenaries relaxed. In a corner, Locke Locke wiped her brow. “Close call—I thought we’d have to go feed the mosquitoes with him.”

Kevin wasted no time, heading straight for the capital and the Royal Academy to find Vice-Principal Rook. The convenience of teleportation was undeniable—Sakar City to Mosier, then to the capital, all in a morning. In the past, such travel would have taken ten days or more.

Professor Rook was an old acquaintance—Kevin had led his escort once before. Upon seeing Kevin again, the professor was surprised but pleased, and insisted that Kevin stay at the academy for the night, with departure set for the next day.

Once more, Kevin had free rein in the academy, unburdened by the restrictions of his recruit days. He wandered about with hands in his pockets, going wherever he pleased.

Classes were in session. Kevin, shameless as ever, stood outside classrooms, eavesdropping on anything that caught his interest. In one, students were debating how to forge a thirty-meter-long greatsword—since there were giant magic staves, why not giant swords? Every innovation seems absurd at first, but these students were earnestly discussing forging techniques and practical use. Kevin was fascinated but had only heard half before being discovered and ushered out.

He wanted to visit the academy library, but wasn’t granted entry; other important areas were guarded at the door. Thus, his wanderings yielded little, and he retired to his quarters to rest, rising early the next day to wait at the gate.

Professor Rook soon arrived, striding briskly with a case in hand.

“Good morning, Professor,” Kevin greeted politely.

“Good morning,” the professor replied casually.

“Why are you alone this time, Professor?” Kevin asked.

“Sigh! After last time’s mayhem, everyone’s scared off—so it’s just me,” the professor said with a rueful smile. Then he asked, “And you? Why are you alone?”

Kevin could only shrug. “I couldn’t find anyone to help—so it’s just me.”